


Get Down Tonight

by Meduseld



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Strippers & Strip Clubs, The Wayne Family Fortune comes from the adult industry in this one, This may or may not be a no powers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 03:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11245275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meduseld/pseuds/Meduseld
Summary: A strip club AU where neither of them are strippers.





	Get Down Tonight

The club is dark and sultry, the thumping beat punctuated by red strobe lights glittering off of half removed sequined costumes and Clark Kent is obviously, woefully, out of place.

His poorly fitting blue suit might let him blend in with a few of the other salesmen and office workers hollering at the girls on stage, but his big build puts him too close to the frowning bouncers flanking the doors. He winces and pulls of his glasses, pretending to polish them, while a blush hotly creeps up his face and neck.

He shouldn’t be here, but Perry needed someone to cover the newly booming strip club business in Metropolis. Lois had volunteered, loudly, and Clark had agreed but they’d been overruled. And now he was standing, as awkward as a teenager, in the newest strip club in the Wayne Enterprises chain. His eyes flick nervously from the ceiling to the floor, trying not to gawk at the tanned, athletic bodies in front of him. “ _Oh come on! You can take the boy out of Cowville but you can’t take Cowville out of the boy!”_ Lois had yelled, and Clark was going to step outside right now and beg Perry to put her on it instead, no matter how many months of teasing it would get him.

He turns and big beefy hand, with a skull tattoo on it and a four letter word on the knuckles, stops him. The bodyguard has his head tilted, getting a few more fuzzy words from his earpiece. “The owner would like a word with you, sir” he rumbles and Clark could already hear the beginning of a joint White-Lane lecture on being _inconspicuous, you are a damned investigative reporter Kent!_

He follows the big bodyguard meekly, which just seems to make him tense up. Maybe he’d been expecting a fight. Or maybe Wayne just kept unsavory company. Clark had a vague idea what Bruce Wayne looked like from a few grainy photos given that the heir to the several billion dollar adult entertainment fortune was the reclusive type, rare for his line of work. But he was still expecting purple velour tracksuits opened to the navel and gold pinky rings in a gaudy champagne room

Instead he gets a slick, simple all-black tailored suit, and a cocked eyebrow at his double take at the neat, minimalist office. If you didn’t notice the lack of windows it wouldn’t have been out of place in the Daily Planet building. He smiles. This, he can work with.

“Mr. Wayne, I presume? How would you feel about an interview?”

This time the double take is Wayne’s.  


End file.
